


Just Call Me Lucifer, Love

by DoctorGeekery



Series: Lucifer & The Avengers [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: And he flirts with everyone, Even Fury, Gen, It's because Lucifer has the maturity of a 12-year-old, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Devil Reveal, Lucifer ends up in the first Avengers movie, Lucifer is very snarky, Post-Season 4 AU, There's also a lot of sexual innuendos, so you have been warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24187924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorGeekery/pseuds/DoctorGeekery
Summary: When Lucifer Morningstar left Chloe on the balcony at Lux, he didn’t end up in Hell. Rather, he found himself sucked in by a blue cube called the Tesseract and ended up meeting some people called the Avengers. Turns out, they could use his help. Who knew?---“Wait, hold up,” Lucifer said. “You turn into a monster too? First Loki goes and steals my schtick, and now you steal that? Can I have anything original around here?”Banner frowned at him. “What do you mean, you turn into a monster?”“I call it my devil face,” Lucifer said, shrugging. “But I turn red, not green. And when were you going to tell me you could do that? We could go out on Halloween as drinking buddies!”“Yeah, nope,” Banner said. “The… other guy… would not make a good drinking companion.”“Pity,” Lucifer said. “Let me know if you change your mind.”---
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Series: Lucifer & The Avengers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1840339
Comments: 135
Kudos: 562





	1. Mr. Winged-Man

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Divinity of Heroism](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23468932) by [LeEspionage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeEspionage/pseuds/LeEspionage). 



_Goodbye_.

His last words to Chloe were still on his lips and her tear-streaked face was still on his mind when that balcony disappeared. Everything was a whirlwind of color as Lucifer descended through the dimensions, approaching Hell, beginning to feel the warped feel of time stretching like it always did. But he wasn’t paying attention. His mind was on Chloe, and her lips, and her eyes, and her blonde hair blowing in the slight breeze-

Was that a cube? A blue cube? Flying through dimensions was a disorienting experience, but Lucifer’s eyes managed to latch onto a blue cube. Everything else was changing, shifting, stretching, but that cube remained static. And he was barreling straight towards it. Lucifer’s eyes widened with apprehension as he got closer to it. No, no, no he was going too fast! Lucifer desperately tried to revert course, but it was too late. Lucifer braced his wings to bear the brunt of the impact as he barreled towards the cube.

But the crash he expected did not come. He felt himself go through it, and all Lucifer could see was a blinding blue light. He cried out briefly in confusion, before clamping his mouth shut. And then, finally, the impact he expected came. He rolled onto what felt like a stone floor of some sort, and he could feel his curled-up wings making a small crater on the ground with its force.

Lucifer rolled to a stop, and he lay motionless for a second before groaning with pain. The detective wasn’t around, but an impact that hard could bruise even celestial beings. Lucifer groaned again, blinking, trying to figure out where he was. His ears were ringing, and he couldn’t seem to focus on anything. He was still just seeing spots of blue. Whatever he passed through had done a number on him.

Lucifer stretched out his wings, the bones creaking with effort, and lay down flat on his back. He panted with the effort. Damn it, his wings _hurt_.

When he finally bothered to look up, he found that he was staring down the barrel of at least four different guns.

“Damn,” Lucifer whispered. He blinked again, the room coming into focus once more. At this angle, he could only see what was directly above him. Four men in identical black uniforms stood above him, their dress and demeanor indicating that they must be agents of some sort. Their shoulders had some sort of emblem – an eagle, it appeared like – but Lucifer had no idea what organization he had evidently stumbled onto.

Lucifer awkwardly cleared his throat from his position on the ground and asked, “Hello, mysterious men in black. My, my, don’t you all look dashing. Did someone get a group discount at a men’s clothing store and share with their friends? Or maybe a groupon? I suppose nobody really does groupons anymore, do they,” Lucifer said, his voice smooth, refined, and as silky as ever. Lesser-willed men would have been a puddle at his feet by now. Unfortunately, these people were definitely government agents, as their faces remained stony. And, unfortunately for his information-gathering purposes, silent.

Now that he was paying attention to the situation, Lucifer could hear all sort of alarms blaring and the background and men shouting something intelligible. He supposed he was the cause of that, and Lucifer let a small smirk appear on his face.

Lucifer heard the click of a set of boots approaching, and he could tell based on the scurry of other people’s shoes and the briefest flicker of emotion in the men’s eyes that this man approaching was in charge.

“Oooh, the boss man is here!” Lucifer said excitedly. “I always like getting down to business immediately. Honestly, the worst part of being in prickly situations is the boredom. I like my hostile encounters to go quickly and smoothly, thank you.”

“Barton?” the boss man asked. Lucifer couldn’t see him yet at this angle – he was too far out of view.

“He’s a talker,” said a voice just to his left. Lucifer tilted his head just a tad and saw the man – Barton. He wore all black, but his uniform was less refined and uptight. His jacket was unzipped, his hair outgrown the strict military cut. He must have been a higher player. Unlike everyone else he could see, who had a gun in their hands, Barton had his arms crossed and was eyeing Lucifer inquisitively. Lucifer sent him a wink, hoping to unnerve him at least a little.

“At last, someone speaks!” Lucifer said glibly. “I was beginning to think you were all mute. I’m glad that’s not the case.” Unfortunately for him, that granted him no reply. It seemed this Barton fellow only replied to the boss man. Lucifer was beginning to feel a little ignored.

“Haul him to his feet,” the boss man said, and the men above him grabbed his arms and pulled him up, their weapons still primed at his face. Lucifer scrambled to get his feet under him, and his wings shifted position to give him some balance. He would really like to put his wings away, but with the tense atmosphere of the room, he didn’t think any sudden movements would be received well.

Now that Lucifer was upright, he could see a lot more. The room he was in was massive – it spanned hundreds of feet, and if he had to guess, was most likely some underground facility. The air was too thick and condensed to be anywhere above ground. There was also sorts of machinery, and Lucifer’s eyes latched onto the blue cube sitting innocently in the middle of it all. Somehow, he had gotten here through that, he was sure of it. Lucifer forced himself to tear his eyes away from the mesmerizing swirls he could just barely make out in the cube and tried to focus somewhere else. He could see men in lab coats, clearly scientists, a few men in generic suits putting guns at him – clearly another type of agent. There was a scruffy looking man in plaid looking like he rolled out of bed. Lucifer felt a compulsive urge to gel down the hair that was sticking up funnily on his head. He didn’t seem to fit with the immaculate group of people.

But the man that caught his eye was the boss man. He looked – there was no other word for it – badass. He wore thick combat boots like everyone else and was overall dressed in black, but that’s where the similarities ended. He had a thick leather trench coat and a black eye patch over one eye.

If Lucifer wasn’t grinning before, he was sure grinning now. “Bloody hell, that eye patch is brilliant. Do you think I’d look good with an eye patch? Of course, in order to go about it properly that would mean my eye probably has to get popped out first, but there are worse sacrifices. I’ve actually never tried removing one of my own eyes, believe it or not. Would it grow back like my bloody wings? Or would I be eyeless for the rest of eternity?”

“I wouldn’t recommend losing an eye for your aesthetic,” the boss man said smoothly. His one eye was intently trained on Lucifer, but other than that, he gave no indication of being tense around a man with wings.

“No, I suppose you’re right,” Lucifer replied, his smile dimming. “I suppose the novelty would wear off at some point, and then you’re stuck eyeless for the rest of your life.”

“Indeed,” the boss man said, his one eye still trained intently on Lucifer. He couldn’t figure out quite what was in them – curiosity? Apprehension? Normally when Lucifer studied someone’s eyes, he looked at them both, but the one-eye thing was giving him a bit of a challenge.

“Now, Mr. Winged-Man, what purpose do you have on Earth?” the boss man asked.

“What purpose? Well, normally on my Earthly stints I drink booze, party, and have sex. Especially the latter. Many, many times. I don’t suppose you’d be interested?” Lucifer said, putting on his best flirtatious grin and winking at the boss man. Seriously, if he went through all this effort and didn’t get laid by at least one of these agent fellows, he would be highly disappointed. To his great surprise, the boss man actually cracked a smile, taking on a more jesting tone. If a smile could be sarcastic, this man had definitely pulled it off.

“So, I’m supposed to believe that you came here through that blue box over there to party,” the boss man said, his false smile in place, now walking closer to Lucifer so they were only a few feet away.

“Well, I never said that’s what I was planning to do _right now_ ,” Lucifer said. “In fact, I wasn’t even supposed to be on Earth at the moment. I got sucked in by that blue box, as you so nicely called it, over there quite by accident and got spit out here.”

“So, you came here by accident,” the boss man said. His smile had diminished, but he no longer seemed as cold.

“Exactly! You’re getting it,” Lucifer said, clapping his hands together. The nearest gunman to him twitched. Lucifer sent him a toothy smile.

“Where did you come from?” the boss man ventured.

“Oh, L.A.” Lucifer said easily.

“Los Angeles,” Barton deadpanned. If his cocked eyebrow was any indication, he did not believe Lucifer.

“Of course!” Lucifer said, turning towards the other agent with a grin. “Surely you could see the irony of me living in the city of angels, can’t you?” Lucifer said, sending one thumb to point at his wings. “Although, believe me, I’m no angel.”

“Then what are you?” Barton challenged.

Lucifer looked around at the nervous faces around him, although this Barton fellow and his boss man seemed the slightest bit more at ease. “Oh, silly me, I’ve forgotten to introduce myself, haven’t I?” Lucifer said. “Lucifer Morningstar, at your service. Better known as the Devil.” Since the wings were already on display and he didn’t want them to get any wrong ideas about his true nature, Lucifer let the slightest bit of hellfire flare up in his eyes before letting it retreat. Lucifer felt more than heard the startled gasps around the room.

“You’re the devil?” Barton choked out, his gaze flickering between Lucifer’s wings and his eyes (which were now back to its normal brown).

“Oh, don’t these pretty little things fool you,” Lucifer said, gesturing to his wings with his hands again. “I may look rather angelic at the moment, but I’m not like that all the time.”

The boss man had a forced smile on his face as he addressed Lucifer. “To sum up, you are the devil himself, who is from L.A., and fell through the Tesseract and ended up here.”

“Essentially, yes,” Lucifer said, beaming at him. “You got it! And, sorry if I misheard – Tesseract?”

“The blue box,” Barton supplied helpfully.

“Ah, yes,” Lucifer said, his gaze once more being drawn in the area of the cube, energy clearly swirling in and around it. “I suppose it makes sense that you’ve come up with a silly little term for it. It’s evidently been here for some time.”

“Sorry, I’m still hung up on the whole the-Devil-is-from-LA thing… how?” Barton asked.

“Oh, I’m not _from_ there, per say,” Lucifer said. The tension had abated a little bit in the room, so he felt free enough to straighten out his suit and the cuffs by his wrist. He patted the dust off his suit as he continued. “I’ve lived in L.A. for the past eight years or so, but I am, of course, from Hell. I suppose I’m really from Heaven if you go back far enough, but we don’t really talk about that. Speaking of Hell, this chat has been nice, but I really must be going.” Yes, he had lingered here on the mortal plane for far too long. A single minute here was hours to the demons, hours in which they could be planning an insurrection or another jaunt to Earth. Really, these agents ought to be thanking him for protecting them from a demon uprising on their soil.

Lucifer felt himself descend into the chaotic nothingness of the dimensional void, and he pressed down further – but instead of entering Hell like he expected, he felt himself bounce back, and suddenly he was standing back in the room he’d come from again. He could hear the men shouting and cocking their weapons again. No doubt to them it seemed as if Lucifer disappeared and then suddenly reappeared seconds later. But Lucifer wasn’t concerned with the worries of the humans at the moment. He was much more preoccupied with his own dilemma.

“What the Hell…?” Lucifer murmured, bending down and placing a finger to the floor. No, it was just stone, it certainly wasn’t made of some sort of celestial material. Crouched on the floor like he was, he set off again for the dimensional void, focusing on Hell, but once again, he felt himself bouncing back to the same spot, in the same room.

Maybe it was a fluke. He tried a few more times, just to be sure, and but still found it not to be working. He let an inhuman growl rip from his throat in frustration and could feel hellfire burning in his eyes. He distantly registered the pinprick of a gunshot, but with the detective gone, it felt like a pinch.

He looked up, hellfire still burning in his eyes, although his devil face wasn’t appearing at the moment. Still, he vaguely registered the terrified faces of the agents around him, but they were a bit out of focus. Frequent dimension jumps could do that. He really ought to get out of here, at least before his suit was entirely riddled by bullet holes. He felt a few more bullets penetrate his coat. Really?

Lucifer slipped back into the void, but this time, instead of descending towards Hell, he remained on this plane, moving away. He was hoping to just get to another part of the world, away from these trigger-happy folks, but Lucifer found he could barely move. He put one foot in front of another, and it felt like he was swimming through molasses. Something was holding him back. Lucifer turned around and through the blur of colors, indicating that to the mortals he was almost certainly gone, he could still see the glowing blue cube. The Tesseract, the other man had called it.

Of course. Just like it sucked him here, it was somehow keeping him here as well, in this room. Lucifer struggled further, his limbs screaming with exhaustion, but the force of the Tesseract was fighting him. He slowly put one foot in front of the other, inching away from the Tesseract, until he felt like passing out.

He gasped as he reappeared in the room. This time, instead of arriving in the same spot, he was about ten feet away. Really? That’s all he’d moved? Ten feet? Lucifer nearly smirked at seeing how startled the agents were, but he was much too exhausted to devote much thought to them at the moment. Fighting that – whatever the Tesseract was – took a lot out of him. Lucifer wobbled on his feet, faces coming in and out of focus, before he noticed that the floor seemed to be accelerating towards him.

Before he passed out, Lucifer had enough foresight to tuck his wings out of sight. He wouldn’t want those agents getting their hands on _that_.

Then Lucifer crumbled to the ground.


	2. Douche Two

Lucifer came to awareness slowly. He blinked once, twice, squinting at the florescent lights dangling on the ceiling. As his pupils dilated, he looked down and noticed that his both his hands and his feet seemed to be handcuffed. The chains were thick and unyielding, clearly meant for a very strong man. Supernaturally strong, he might say. He could easily break out of them with his affinity for locks, but Lucifer decided to wait it out and find out what was going on. He pushed himself into sitting upright against the wall and glanced around. Currently, he was all alone in this grey nondescript room. It seemed to be an old storage room. Evidently, they didn’t have any cells on hand, wherever he was.

The door was locked, and Lucifer was sure he could easily leave, but with Hell blocked off to him there wasn’t really a place for him to go. Actually…

Lucifer opened up his wings and tried to get to Hell once more. The feeling of molasses had barely eased – clearly, he was still in the same building as the Tesseract then. He hadn’t gone far. Hell was still blocked as well, and Lucifer felt himself bounce back to his small cell. Lucifer let out a small groan and closed his eyes, pressing the back of his head to the wall. Defeated, he tucked his wings away once more.

The door opened with a click, and Lucifer lazily opened his eyes. The one-eyed boss man was back striding into the room. He shut the door behind him, his single eye focused intently on Lucifer. He seemed to be in a good mood, if a little wary, which Lucifer could appreciate. He’d imagine he was he first celestial being this man had met.

“That’s a cool disappearing act you’ve got there,” the boss man said, closing the door behind him. “You could make a fortune on Hollywood Boulevard. You’re keeping a lot of my men on their toes, that’s for sure.”

“Thank you!” Lucifer said, delicately attempting to let his charming charisma ooze out once more. “I, personally, am of the belief that all secret agents need experience with celestial beings. It builds character. I’m glad I could oblige.”

“Sir?” someone said, as they cracked open the door. It was a woman, her black hair dressed up in a bun. Her eyes were dark and serious, seemingly the epitome of uptight and professional. Lucifer flashed her a smile, but she ignored him, entirely focused on the boss man. “It’s acting up again,” she informed him.

“Continue the evacuation of the premises,” the boss man told the woman. “Get someone to bring him to the helicarrier. I’m going to want to keep an eye on him.”

“Aw, you’re going to miss me, aren’t you?” Lucifer said. “Don’t worry, I’ll stick around, if only so I can see the results of our new relationship.” The boss man’s only acknowledgement was pressing a button in his hand that unlocked the ankle cuffs. Lucifer happily pulled off the cuffs and stood, stretching his legs. The boss man grabbed Lucifer by the arm and walked him towards the door, shutting it behind them. Alarms were going off, and agents were running down the long corridor. Lucifer frowned. He’d thought he was the one had caused the chaos earlier, but now the boss man and everyone else barely seemed concerned with him. Something else was going on.

“Take him,” the boss man told a small group of six agents, and Lucifer stood next to the bun woman as the boss man took the agents aside to give them further instructions. Lucifer would normally take this opportunity to chat up the woman, but she didn’t seem in the mood, and neither was he. All this charm was getting to be a bit exhausting. So, they stood in silence for a few minutes, ignoring one another. Lucifer was beginning to feel a bit awkward still wearing handcuffs. He didn’t want to reveal his lock-trick quite yet. So, he just stood there, wishing he could reach inside his jacket pocket for a lighter and a cigarette.

The whole building – or wherever Lucifer was – rumbled, and the stone was beginning to crack. Clearly there was a major earthquake of some sort, but if it was a natural event, then why had they begun the evacuation before it had even begun? The people passing them paused only for a second and looked at the ceiling before hurrying on. No, they were expecting this. Whatever this earthquake was, it wasn’t natural.

“Come on,” one of the agents said, and Lucifer followed him while the other five of them surrounded him on all sides. The building shook once more. They emerged from the blank white corridor to a dusty stairwell, and ascended until they opened a thick metal door leading to the outside. It was dark, and only then did Lucifer realize he hadn’t known what time of day it was. He had already mentally prepared himself to go to Hell, and it was impossible to tell down there. Every day in Hell was monotonous, consistent except for the varied ashfall. Desolate.

Here though, things were bustling. People were loading cases of unlabeled equipment onto trucks, vans, and anything that was around. Some men were identifiably scientists, but most of them were military. Clearly, Lucifer had wound up on some sort of base of sorts. Just his luck. It was overall a nice-looking campus, and probably would look more dignified if it weren’t for the organized chaos.

“Come on,” one of the nameless agents said as he herded Lucifer into a large van.

“Getting cozy, are we boys?” Lucifer said as he slipped into the backseat. “Excellent. I think we’ll all get to know each other quite well.” The nameless agents, unfortunately, did not grace Lucifer with a reply.

They all slipped inside the van, and the man who grabbed the wheel spoke quickly and urgently into his walkie, informing the boss man of their departure. Then they were off.

Unfortunately, they were all a bit closer than he would like. Two agents sat in the front, two agents in the rear, and one sat on other side of him. It would be fine if it were under sexier circumstances, but none of the agents seemed up for it. A pity. So, after several aggravating minutes of Lucifer trying to chat them up and provoke a reaction, he finally descended into a moody silence.

The silence eventually broke with a crackling voice coming through the walkie talkie. Lucifer leaned forward, hoping to glean something, anything, but the voice – boss man, it sounded like – was asking if they were secure. He didn’t specify as to what happened, but Lucifer got the impression that the whole base had imploded somehow. Preposterous.

There weren’t any other voices the rest of the trip. For the first time since he’d came here, things were relatively peaceful. This peace, however, came at a cost. Until this point, he was stubbornly refusing to think about where he was, where he was going, or any of the other mysteries that plagued him. What was the Tesseract and why did it bring him here? Where was he, really? Who was this government agency? They barely seemed surprised to find themselves with a celestial being, and unlike everyone else, Lucifer knew they believed him when he said who he was. They’d seen his wings, they’d seen him deflect bullets, they’d seen him disappear. Everything Lucifer found out just confused him further, and he did not do confused. So, despite every instinct telling him to flee, to go back to Los Angeles, to knock out these men – and he knew it would barely take more than a few seconds – Lucifer stayed put. He wanted answers.

He refused to even entertain a thought about the Detective. That could wait until he was safe on his throne, with nothing but thoughts of her to pass his days.

After hours of mulling over his thoughts, at last, as the rays of dawn shined overhead and revealed a small airstrip. All the other vehicles, vans and trucks for the most part, parked in a small lot right by it. Lucifer’s van, however, pulled right up to one of the jets.

“Is that for us?” Lucifer said, admiring the sleek, compact jet. It shone in the morning rays, and its whole presence screamed sophistication.

“Yup,” one of the agents said, finally gracing him with a reply after all this time. The hangar door descended, and the agents escorted him towards the jet.

The flight towards who-knows-where was short. Lucifer was thankful, as while the outside of the small jet was sleek, the inside certainly was not. It was cramped and clearly meant for military operations. There was barely a place to sit, never mind relax in first-class seating with a bottle of alcohol. He’d ridden much better flights than this.

After barely half an hour, they finally landed on what seemed to be some sort of aircraft carrier. Lucifer had never actually been on one, so he was rather thrilled with the opportunity. Around them was nothing but the beautiful blue of ocean from all sides. The endlessness made him think unpleasantly of Hell, so Lucifer shook off the thought and focused around him. More jets were landing, men were performing military drills, and the nameless agents were leading Lucifer towards the main control deck. Lucifer felt a bit undignified being the only person he could see in handcuffs, but he held his head high. He had never cared what humans thought, and it wasn’t like anyone except the six agents around him were paying attention to him, anyway.

When he got closer to what he assumed was the main control deck, Lucifer realized that this was no normal aircraft carrier. Inside were corridors and then a big open expanse of rows and rows of computers. This was more than a place for jets to land – it was a base of operations. A mobile base of operations.

To his great surprise, the boss man was already there, standing in front of a set of screens. He must have had some faster mode of transport. It didn’t surprise him the least – that van was annoyingly slow.

“I knew you missed me,” Lucifer said, grinning at the boss man. “I’m touched.” The boss man lingered his gaze on Lucifer for a moment before flickering to the agents around him.

“Take off the cuffs,” the boss man ordered.

“Aw, I didn’t know you cared,” Lucifer said smoothly, licking his lips as the agents uncuffed him and left. Flirting with the boss man was _fun_. And while he didn’t flirt back, he didn’t try to actively stop him, so plus. “You know, if you ever want to bring the cuffs back, I have some excellent ideas for foreplay.”

“What do you know about Loki of Asgard?” the boss man asked, directly to the point as always. He seemed… stressed. Even more so than when Lucifer had last seen him.

“Who of what?” Lucifer said. “Nothing. No, wait – isn’t that the name of one of those people in the old Norse myths, by people who didn’t worship my father? I always liked them. The Norse, I mean. No care for my dad; and boy did they know how to throw a party.” Lucifer, his arms free, finally set about straightening the wrinkles in his suit with his hands. It wasn’t perfect, but he’d certainly looked worse.

“Loki of Asgard arrived through the Tesseract shortly after you did, except his arrival was much more… destructive. You sure you don’t know him? It’s a hell of a coincidence, you arriving and then him right after,” Fury said accusingly.

“Never met the man in my life,” Lucifer said, leaning comfortably over the metal railing that overlooked the deck below. “I knew the Norse myths were based on some visiting extraterrestrials, but I’ve never met any of them. Nor do I want to. The Devil doesn’t have much domain over other parts of the universe, after all – only this corner of the galaxy. The rest of that belongs to my aunts and uncles.”

“Aunts and uncles?” Fury said. “Didn’t think the ‘The Devil’ had aunts and uncles.”

“My father, God, was one of a large litter who came into being at the start of the universe. He and my mum got their own little corner of the universe, creating some rocks and such before starting life on Earth. The rest of dad’s siblings got their own little sections of the universe. Asgard is its own place. Me setting foot there would be enough to start a war. So, no I haven’t actually met this Loki,” Lucifer explained. The boss man nodded, seemingly deep in contemplation, and Lucifer found it a bit odd to have what came out of his mouth be instantly believed, or at least not openly dismissed. He was used to everyone believing he was simply spouting nonsense. It made for a nice change of pace.

“The Tesseract sparked to life shortly before you arrived. Only a few hours later, Loki came through, bringing the building crumbling down with him. I thought you were the one who caused the Tesseract to act up, but…” the boss man trailed off, his brow furrowed.

“…You think it might be this Loki fellow,” Lucifer finished. “It’s a pretty good theory. He could have come through on accident as well, though.”

“Not a chance,” the boss man said, shaking his head. “He knew exactly where he was and was clearly a man on a mission. He used a magic spear to somehow hypnotize some of my men, steal the Tesseract, and take off. Loki’s got some sort of plan up his sleeve, and I intend to find it out.”

“He can hypnotize people too?” Lucifer said, a childish pout taking over his features. “That was supposed to be my thing! This Loki fellow has gone and stole it. Never mind, now I absolutely have to meet him. He’s gone and stolen my schtick.” The boss man turned his eye intently back on Lucifer, disapproval written all over his features. “Don’t worry, I haven’t done it to you! I give you my word,” Lucifer added.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe your word. However, as it stands, I know you haven’t,” the boss man replied.

“It’s the whole ‘Prince of Lies’ thing, isn’t it?” Lucifer asked glumly. “Blame Gabriel. Actually, just go ahead and blame everything you’ve heard about me on Gabriel. He’s always had it out for me. Bastard.”

“It’s not that,” Fury said. “It’s the fact that no one with your face has ever appeared in Los Angeles, despite you claiming to have lived there for the past eight years.”

“What?” Lucifer said, turning back around from the railing to face the boss man. “That’s impossible. I’m actually fairly well-known. I run a club called Lux.”

“Nope, no evidence of it,” Fury said after a moment in front of his screens. Lucifer gaped at him. Unless this was some sick prank of Amenadiel’s – and Amenadiel didn’t do sick pranks – he didn’t exist. And he knew Lux and himself were all over the internet. He didn’t exactly hide. That left…

“Who’s the president?” Lucifer asked urgently. “Who’s the president right now?”

“Matthew Ellis,” Fury replied. He’d never heard of that fellow. Lucifer’s jaw dropped further.

“No… it can’t be…” Lucifer saw a large conference table several feet away and grabbed ahold of the back of a chair for comfort as he grappled with his thoughts. “I’m on the wrong Earth,” Lucifer said, the words barely seeming real. He was on the wrong Earth. He’d never been on another Earth. He knew other Earths existed, of course – he’d slept with an exorcist from another Earth once, after the man had helpfully done Lucifer a favor – but he’d never been to one. There’d been no point. He was perfectly happy with his own Earth, so why would he want to go to a different one?

“The Tesseract pulled me to another Earth,” Lucifer said, feeling the words over his tongue as he said them. They didn’t sound any more real out loud. That meant that the detective, if she even existed, had never met him in this world.

_No_ , he ordered himself. _Don’t think about her_.

He sat down at the table – to his delight, the chair was a swivel one, and he tried to focus on the delight of spinning around in the chair instead of lingering on thoughts of _her_.

“Different Earths,” the boss man said, seemingly mulling it over. “I thought I’d seen it all when I met aliens.”

“Different Earths? That’s a thing now too?” said a voice who was walking over to them. It was a man with neat brown hair and an impeccable suit. He held out his hand to Lucifer. “Agent Coulson,” he said, ignoring the boss man’s warning look. Lucifer liked him already.

“Lucifer Morningstar,” Lucifer said, pulling himself together and carefully flashing a smile. He struggled to smooth out the signs of his earlier distress from his face while shaking his hand. After a quick moment they let go, and Coulson focused back on the boss man.

“Apparently it is,” the boss man said, answering Coulson’s earlier question. “I won’t pretend to understand it, or how he got here.”

“Really?” Coulson said, the only hint of his excitement being a refreshing spark in his eyes.

“I see you’re having trouble comprehending the concept,” Lucifer said, rolling his eyes. “Very well, in terms a human will understand: imagine you’re at a train station. Or a subway, tube – whatever term or analogy you prefer. You hop on a train at the station – let’s say that station was my Earth. You’re headed for the last station on the track – Hell. But there’s a lot of stations between there that you have to sit through. I accidentally got off a few stations early, so instead of arriving in Hell, I landed here.”

“Wait, do we have another god with us?” Coulson said, which appeared to be all he got out of that conversation.

Lucifer scowled. “I am not, nor will I ever be, God. I absolutely despise my father. And if you’re thinking this Loki is a god, that is absolutely false. He’s your average extraterrestrial being. The only god in this corner of the universe is my father.”

“So, you’re not some extraterrestrial then,” Coulson clarified.

Lucifer scowled. He beginning to rethink his first impressions of this man. “No, of course not. Weren’t you listening? This Loki is from a different part of this universe, but he’s still on your plane. I’m from another dimension entirely. I got pulled here to your Earth by accident when Loki – or one of his allies – activated that Tesseract of yours while I was travelling through dimensions.”

Coulson was staring at him. Finally, he coughed and said, “Welcome to Earth, then.”

“Morningstar, would you know how to find the Tesseract?” the boss man asked.

“Not sure,” Lucifer said, frowning. “Give me a second.” He hadn’t actually tried to travel since he was out of range of the Tesseract. He unfurled his wings, and with the way the sun came in through the windows, reflecting on them, over half the agents paused mid-motion – whether they were on the computers, walking about carrying boxes, guarding – to gape at him. This was why he hated these wings. If he didn’t do anything about it, they were probably going to think he was a god too, or an angel. He wasn’t sure which was worse.

Humans.

He considered unfurling his leather bat-like, clawed wings instead – he was pretty sure he could control those at will now, and at least they wouldn’t look at him with awe if he revealed those – but decided not to. He absolutely _hated_ those ones, even more than his white, angelic wings. But he still couldn’t stand a few of the agents to stare at him like _that_ , so he let some hellfire ripple across his eyes. All the agents looking at him took startled steps backwards, but at least they no longer looked like they wanted to bow down to his feet anymore.

Before he could linger anymore on their faces, Lucifer slipped back into the dimensional void. To his great relief, it no longer felt like molasses, and Lucifer quickly flitted to Los Angeles for the briefest second before flitting back just to make sure it was all in working order. Whatever had been stopping his travel earlier didn’t seem to have any effect when the Tesseract wasn’t around. Lucifer then tried to see if he could descend to Hell. He felt himself stretching down, down…

He was hopeful for a second, but then he was abruptly knocked back, landing roughly on his feet back on the aircraft carrier. He shook himself quickly, his thoughts vaguely jumbled. He could hear the boss man in the background ordering the agents to get back to work – evidently they’d stopped again after his little disappearing act.

The boss man directed his focus back to Lucifer. “Well?”

“I can tell you that it’s not around here,” Lucifer said with certainty. “And I’d be able to tell you with certainty if the Tesseract was nearby. But I can’t narrow it down any further than that without other information.”

“Very well,” the boss man said. “But you might be some use to Banner once he comes inside. Welcome to the team, Morningstar.” At last, the boss man held out his hand for a handshake. “I’m Director Fury.”

Lucifer grinned at him. “Well, well, Director Fury! I thought we’d never reach this point. And just call me Lucifer, love.”

“Director?” said a voice behind him. Lucifer turned around. It was the bun woman from earlier, the one from the other base. She was here too. “Are you sure…” she was being vague on purpose, but Fury, and unfortunately for her, Lucifer, knew exactly what she was insinuating. She didn’t think working with him was wise.

“We are facing a hostile extraterrestrial force that has malicious intentions for our planet, with a high probability of the situation ending in global catastrophe,” Fury said. “At this point, I think we could use all the help we can get, and that includes the Devil.”

“Thank you, darling!” Lucifer said, smiling at his brave defender. The man was really starting to grow on him. “See, I knew you liked me. But I regret to inform you that my work doesn’t come for free. I’d need something in return. A favor, if you will.”

“Depends what it is you want,” Fury replied smoothly.

“Five minutes with the Tesseract, once you find it,” Lucifer said. “I believe it’ll be the only way I can reach Hell.”

“I can do that,” Fury said, drowning out the vocal protests of the woman. “In return, you’ll help us get it back?”

“It’s a deal. My word is my bond,” Lucifer said, holding his hand out to shake. Fury shook it. Coulson and the woman seemed a bit apprehensive at the prospective of their boss literally making a deal with the Devil, but Fury himself didn’t seem the slightest bit fazed. His esteem for him just kept on climbing. Not that he’d ever admit it to him, of course.

“Right then. We’d best get going. Hill?” Fury asked. The woman nodded and headed down a few steps to what appeared to be her station. Coulson walked away as well, which left only Lucifer sitting at the table to watch the show.

The engines turned on and turbines started spinning, and that’s when Lucifer realized that this wasn’t your average aircraft carrier at all. Amidst the orders that people were shouting, he finally realized what this place, this helicarrier, what he’d heard it called, was.

Human technology kept getting better and better.

Once the helicarrier was up in the air, Fury turned back around to address two other men who’d arrived. Lucifer carefully tried to mask his surprise at seeing them. Caught up in the spectacle of the helicarrier literally lifting itself from the ocean, he hadn’t noticed the men approach. Unlike everyone else here, they weren’t agents. They seemed a bit lost, actually.

“Doctor, thank you for coming,” Fury said, addressing one of the men. He had scraggly black hair and his brown suit was a bit ragged, but at least he was making a little bit of an effort to look presentable. He could at least appreciate that. Not everyone had money. The other guy, the blonde one, looked like he had missed fashion in the last few decades. He wore plaid and a brown leather jacket. He dressed even worse than Detective Douche, which made Lucifer hate him immediately. He was definitely a douche. Douche Two, if you will.

“Thanks for asking nicely,” the scraggly looking man said. “So, how long am I staying?

“Once we get our hands on the Tesseract, you’re in the wind,” Fury assured him. “Lucifer, this is Dr. Bruce Banner,” Fury said.

“It’s a pleasure,” Lucifer said, shaking his hand and slowly eyeing the man up and down. If possible, Bruce looked even more uncomfortable.

“And you are…?” Bruce said, avoiding his eyes.

“Lucifer Morningstar,” Lucifer said sweetly, shaking his hand. As they slowly let go, Lucifer brushed his fingers across Bruce’s palm, and yes, that was definitely a blush.

“Lucifer?” said badly-dressed Douche Two.

“The Devil, dearest,” Lucifer said, leering at the other man. The blonde looked a bit panicked by the prospect. Lucifer wanted to taunt him further, but Bruce interrupted.

“Where are we with the Tesseract?” Bruce asked Fury, who looked desperate to change the topic. Pity.

Everyone else seemed relieved with this change as well. Fury gestured to Coulson, who said, “We’re sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet. Cell phones, laptops – if it’s connected to a satellite, it’s eyes and ears for us.”

“That’s still not going to find them in time,” said a red-haired woman, who was leaning down by one of the monitors. Lucifer had no idea why he hadn’t noticed her until now – she was a wonderful sight for sore eyes. He nearly let out a whistle upon spotting her.

“You have to narrow your field,” Banner was saying, who was apparently not a human being with eyes. He was fazed by Lucifer, but not this woman? Sinful. “How many spectrometers do you have access to?”

“How many are there?” Fury asked, who was apparently also not a human being with eyes. Seriously, did any of these people like the redhead?

“Call every lab you know,” Bruce said, boring them with things like details and words. “Tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays. I’ll rough out a tracking algorithm, basic cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places.”

“Lucifer here claims to know when the Tesseract is or isn’t around,” Fury said, nodding to Lucifer. He rolled his eyes. He’d never had agreed to help them find the Tesseract if he’d known it was going to be so _boring_. Seriously, he thought this was going to result in epic battles, not jumbo pertaining to the human sciences. “If you need to check out a list of locations, you go to him.”

“Do you have someplace for me to work?” Bruce asked.

“Agent Romanoff,” Fury said, and the redhead perked up. That was her name. Romanoff. It fit her. “Could you show Dr. Banner to his laboratory please?” The pair of them walked off together, and Lucifer glared jealously after them. If he came up later to find that neither of them was having sex, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

“You’re leaving me here all alone with Douche Two?” Lucifer whined, gesturing to the blonde man. “Come on, with a dress sense like that, there’s nothing we have in common; I assure you.”

“Douche Two?” the blonde asked, frowning. “My name is Steve.”

“Who’s Douche One?” Coulson asked, standing below them, still hovering by the monitors.

“A detective named Dan,” Lucifer said. “He’s Detective Douche. But this one isn’t a detective. You aren’t, right?” Lucifer said, spinning around in his chair to face the douche. Gosh, he just loved these swivel chairs. They were very cozy. Maybe he should invest in one of these for Hell. It could replace his throne. Currently, his throne didn’t give him a 360° view of his kingdom.

He was definitely never, ever telling his demons that all they’d have to do to pull off a successful revolt was gather their forces from behind the back of his throne. He’d be dead in a day if they ever figured that out.

“You haven’t heard of Captain America?” Douche Two said, sounding surprised.

“He’s not from around here,” Fury said shortly, his back to them as he stood in front of his screens, seemingly barely paying attention to the conversation.

Lucifer pouted at the inattention he was receiving from his favorite boss man.

He really needed some friends.


	3. One Wayward Son to Another

Lucifer Morningstar was very annoyed for a multitude of reasons.

  1. Douche Two seemed intent on ignoring Lucifer, even as he got annoyed by Coulson. Ugh, of course Coulson liked him. His opinion of Coulson was diminishing every second. Supposedly, Douche Two was known as Captain America and was famous. Lucifer doubted this knowledge – who could look at that hideous style of clothing and think he was a celebrity?



  1. When they got a location on Loki, instead of sending him, the dashing devil himself, Fury sent the douche. Clearly, his opinion of Fury had to be reevaluated as well. Supposedly the douche and the flying Stark man Fury had mentioned could handle it. Whatever.



  1. That left nobody except Fury to annoy, and Fury brushed off all his advances. Whatever. He’d try not to feel insulted.



As such, he’d descended among the ranks to annoy the intent-looking agents on their monitors. Most of them rebuffed his advances, but Lucifer quickly found himself in the company of a woman named Stacey and a man named Georgie. Currently, Georgie was showing him a game called Galaga, some classic Nintendo game. He wasn’t sure if it was a thing on his Earth or not, as Lucifer was still in Hell in the 1980s. He’d have to research it once he got back to his own Earth.

“Fascinating,” Lucifer said, taking over for Georgie and shooting the little flying aliens himself. “You agents are really a remarkable lot. You work on a floating, invisible aircraft carrier, are surrounded by elusive celebrity figures, have access to highly classified information, and you choose to use your top-of-the-line computer systems to play an archaic game? Color me impressed. I’m glad at least some of you know how to have fun.”

“You become desensitized to it after a while,” Georgie explained. “My best friend got beaten up by Thor. Not much surprises me.”

“Watch out!” Stacey warned, leaning over him, who seemed just as invested as the rest of them.

Lucifer lost all three of his rocket ships to the hailstorm of lasers and died. Oh, well. Clearly these human machines were befuddled by celestial beings. He was too good for them.

After a good hour of regaling them with tales of his own, Lucifer was about to take the pair of them someplace private, trying to sneak them past Fury. He doubted the man missed a thing, but luckily for him, he seemed much more concentrated on whatever Romanoff and Douche Two were saying. Apparently, another Asgardian had showed up.

“These guys come from legend. They’re basically gods,” Romanoff was warning.

“There’s only one God, ma’am. And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t dress like that,” Douche Two replied.

Lucifer quickly detached himself from Georgie and Stacey and hurried his way over to the microphone by Fury. There were pictures of Thor and Loki, the Asgardians, up on the nearby screen.

“You’re absolutely right, my father would never be caught dead in something as atrocious as that,” Lucifer said, studying the pictures of Thor and Loki. “Is that cape? Is that a _horned helmet_? As much as I despise my father, at least he has somewhat of a sense of style. I really ought to have a word with these gentlemen at some point.”

“Rogers is already gone, Lucifer,” Romanoff said through the mic. “He didn’t hear any of that.”

“Pity,” Lucifer said.

“Now you, Lucifer,” Fury warned, since he supposed he had nothing else to do with the Asgardians and Douche Two and the flying Stark out of sight, “You can get yourself up to Banner’s lab instead of compromising my agents. He might have something for you to do by now.” Georgie and Stacey guiltily slinked out of sight. Lucifer scowled, but took off anyway. He wanted to see Bruce, anyhow.

One of the nameless agents guided him to Bruce’s lab, and he set about trying to annoy the man. He successfully made Bruce blush a few more times – seriously, this fellow was a delight. Lucifer regaled him with stories of a few of his rather salacious encounters at Lux, as Bruce pretended not to pay attention while putting together his algorithm or whatever he was doing.

Lucifer had successfully acquired a pack of Doritos from a vending machine – who knew that secret invisible helicarriers even had vending machines? – and munched on his chips as he lay down on table he’d cleared off. He’d moved on to telling Bruce about the case he solved by recruiting kids to a weed-selling operation when he saw Bruce take off his glasses. _That_ got Lucifer’s attention. Lucifer sat up and saw Loki passing by their laboratory window, smirking in their direction. Bruce seemed concerned.

“How come Loki gets more guards than I do?” Lucifer asked, insulted. “That’s what, at least a dozen? I only got six!”

“Probably because he’s more threatening,” Bruce muttered. Lucifer opened his mouth to make a rebuttal, but Bruce interrupted him by saying, “Come on, let’s go see Fury’s interrogation.”

Lucifer moodily trailed behind Bruce as they set off for the main deck, with its screens projecting Fury’s interrogation. Lucifer sat down at one of the chairs at the table, bitter that Douche Two had stolen the chair he’d been using earlier.

Speaking of Douche Two… Lucifer nearly gagged when he saw him. That uniform was absolutely _atrocious_. It was bright red and blue, a white star in the center, and was the cheesiest thing he’d ever seen. His eyes nearly burned just looking at it. Its only advantage was the fact that it was extremely form-fitting, not leaving much to the imagination.

Lucifer winked at both Natasha and Steve. Sure, Steve might be Douche Two, but he’d give him a chance if it gave him an opportunity for _that_ ass. But they ignored Lucifer’s wink, as they were both paying attention to the screens in front of them. Fury was interrogating Loki, apparently. Ugh, nobody seemed to notice him anymore.

The screen shut off once the interrogation was over, and as they all contemplated or whatever it was humans did, Lucifer finally said, “Finally! Can we do something interesting? Or does this super team of people Fury told me about just stand around?”

Douche Two glared at him. “Could you focus?” he snapped. “We need to figure out what Loki’s doing and what he wants before more people get hurt.”

“Oooh, you mean like finding out his greatest desire?” Lucifer said. “Captain, why didn’t you say so? I’m the perfect man for the job!”

“Not needed,” said the flying Stark man, who had just walked into the room while chatting to Coulson. He could feel everyone’s eyes drawing towards Stark. He was a man that instantly captured everyone’s presence. He had a certain presence, a charisma, surrounding him. “We know what he’s looking for. Loki has everything he needs to create a fully functioning, stable portal, except for a power source. Something that can kick-start the cube into operation.”

Stark strode over towards them, complimenting Thor and tapping his arms, and then muttering something in front of Fury’s screens. “That man is playing _Galaga_! He thought we wouldn’t notice, but we did,” Stark announced, pointing over the string of computers.

“Oh yeah, that’s Georgie,” Lucifer said. “I’m proud of him. He’s definitely going places.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Stark asked, turning to face Lucifer.

“Lucifer Morningstar,” he said, amusement bubbling forth in his chest.

“He’s the Devil,” Coulson supplied helpfully.

“Wait, really?” Douche Two said, spinning around in his chair to face Lucifer and staring at him with wide eyes. “I thought you were just a rather unfortunately named man.”

“Unfortunately for your soul, nope,” Lucifer said, smirking.

“Wait, does that mean I’m going to Hell?” Douche Two said, gasping in shock. He was extremely pale.

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “I don’t even know who’s going to Hell. But if it’s any comfort, most likely, no. You remind me too much of my morally righteous angelic brothers. Most of them are assholes. You’d get along well with them.”

“Yeah, I’m not doing this,” Stark said, gesturing at Lucifer. “I’m an atheist.”

Lucifer burst out laughing. He _loved_ meeting atheists. They never failed to make his day.

“So, Lucifer Morningstar, what are you? Extraterrestrial like Thor, came to Earth and got incorporated into its legends?”

“Right, I am explaining this for the last time,” Lucifer said. He stood on top of the table – Douche Two slowly inched away – and clapped his hands. Loudly. “EVERYONE LISTEN UP!” Lucifer shouted at the top of his lungs. He waited until the agents below them quieted down to listen to him. Most of them were still on their computers, but at least they weren’t talking anymore. That was probably as good as he was going to get.

“My name is Lucifer Morningstar, and yes, I am the actual Devil! No, I am not an alien! Don’t believe anything that puckered arse Gabriel tells you, because he is a dick. Also, I most certainly do not have horns or hooves. Hell and Heaven are on a different planes of existence, and I got stuck here on Earth because the Tesseract sucked me in while I was travelling to Hell, and now I can’t leave. I have lived in L.A. on a different Earth for the past eight years. No, I don’t know if you’re going to Heaven or Hell. No, I am not here to tempt your soul or anything of the sort, although I may seduce you. Yes, God is real, but he’s a dick as well. Any questions?”

“Yes, what exactly is the Devil?” Thor asked, looking genuinely curious.

Lucifer decided he wasn’t even going to bother. These people were hopeless. He climbed off the table and sat down on his chair with a huff.

Fury had walked in at the end of Lucifer’s little speech, looking grim. He seemed entirely uninterested by Lucifer’s tirade, instead focusing on talking to Romanoff.

Somehow, Fury arriving got everyone talking about Loki. _Again_. It was like beating a dead horse. Stark got started on talking about something technical, like portal mechanics or something, and Banner jumped into the conversation as well.

“Finally, someone who speaks English,” Stark said, looking very excited. “It’s good to meet you, Dr. Banner. Your work on antielectron collisions is unparalleled. And I’m a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster.”

“Wait, hold up,” Lucifer said. “You turn into a monster too? First Loki goes and steals my schtick, and now you steal that? Can I have anything original around here?”

Banner frowned at him. “What do you mean, you turn into a monster?”

“I call it my devil face,” Lucifer said, shrugging. “But I turn red, not green. And when were you going to tell me you could do that? We could go out on Halloween as drinking buddies!”

“Yeah, nope,” Banner said. “The… other guy… would not make a good drinking companion.”

“Pity,” Lucifer said. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

Stark and Bruce reverted back to talking about something technical, with portal mechanics or something, while Douche Two looked lost like usual. Fury mentioned something about flying monkeys and Loki. He didn’t really know; he’d spaced out by this point. But Loki was the foremost thought on all their minds.

No, he would not have this. This Loki man was hogging absolutely all of the attention. Everyone seemed concerned about him – Bruce, Fury, Stark, Thor, the agents. They had the Devil in their midst and they barely seemed to care anymore. Clearly, Lucifer had done something wrong to not hold their attention. Either that, or this Loki was a highly interesting fellow, which he doubted.

“Right, I need to have a chat with this Loki fellow,” Lucifer decided.

“Wait, Lucifer – don’t –” Bruce said, finally paying attention. Too late. Lucifer vanished on the spot; the interrogation spot Fury had utilized minutes earlier on the forefront of his mind.

Yes. He was there. Standing ten feet in front of him, in some sort of clear pressurized tank, was Loki himself. Other than his fancy dress that unfortunately reminded him of his siblings, he didn’t seem all that impressive. He stood there, smirking at the sight of Lucifer, standing firmly in the middle of the container. He didn’t seem like trapped prey at all. He was upright, his hands folded neatly behind his back, undisturbed and unwavering in his presence.

Lucifer quickly tucked in his wings, tore off a few steel bars from the railings, and used them to bar the door. It wouldn’t do to be disturbed before he was ready, even though he was fairly certain it would only buy him a few minutes at most. He immediately heard agents banging and shouting on the door from outside and the PA system above him roared to life.

“Lucifer, get out of there _now_ -” Fury ordered, but Lucifer strode over to the controls and quickly figured out which button would mute it.

“You’re not the boss of me!” Lucifer shouted at the ceiling. He looked back at Loki who was tilting his head, evidently intrigued. Right. He supposed he’d made an impression.

“And who might you be?” Loki asked, his voice lathered with familiar charm. Familiar, because Lucifer had used it himself.

“Lucifer Morningstar, the Devil himself, darling,” Lucifer answered, smiling and turning up his own charm. “Beelzebub, Satan, Old Scratch. If you haven’t heard of me, you really need to get out more. Now, I have a question for you. What’s your secret? Everyone here seems worried about you, and I can’t for the life of it figure it out. Is it the world domination angle? Is that what I need to do? I’ve personally never had an interest in world domination, as it comes with a lot of planning and responsibility, but I will admit that it gives you attention. Is that your secret?”

“I suppose it also comes in the territory of being a god,” Loki said dryly, smirking at Lucifer.

“Not this again!” Lucifer said, throwing up his arms, exasperated. “I keep telling people. There’s only one God, my atrocious father, and you and your brother are nothing more than extraterrestrial royalty. A prince, I believe. Ugh, talk about pains. Monarchies are the worst.”

“You don’t wish to be a king?” Loki said, leering at him. “We could come up with an arrangement.”

“I’m trying to figure out why _you_ want to be a king,” Lucifer said, frankly. “Never understood the desire for power. I’ve done the whole king thing for millennia, and it’s not at all what it’s cracked up to be. On the best days, you’re dealing with mind-numbing administrative tasks. On the worst days, you’re putting up with demon uprisings left and right. Do you have any idea how hard being a king is? I can appreciate you coming to Earth, as I know its appeal, but why take it over when you can just party?”

“I was born to be a king!” Loki shouted, spit flying from his lips. “It is my birthright, and it was stolen from me. I’ve taken it upon myself to forge my own destiny.”

“Do you want to rule Hell for me?” Lucifer asked. “I’d love some volunteers. Before this mess I was headed down there to take back my throne, but only because some demons possessed some mortals and kidnapped my nephew. If you do it though, problem solved! Earth gets left alone, the demons are crushed, and every goes home happy. There is the small matter of only an angel being able to take the throne, but if I dress you up as one of my brothers, they might buy it. You certainly have the complex of one of my brothers. Tell me, do you have wings?”

Lucifer was pacing back and forth, rambling, talking out his thoughts. Loki was probably nuts, but Lucifer didn’t necessarily care about the well-being of any of the demons except for Maze, who was on Earth anyway. And there was no doubt that Loki would be a forceful ruler. He knew that as soon he heard that he zapped a few of the agents with his spear.

“Earth is already as good as mine,” Loki said, his voice menacingly. “That’s what really bothers you, isn’t it? You pretend you don’t care, hide behind your titles and the assumptions that others make about you. But you care, and you’re running from it. Running away from your own problems and responsibilities and into someone else’s.” Lucifer blinked, rattled. He didn’t want Loki to see how deeply that had rattled him. Because that meant admitting that it was true. There was a reason he was barely allowing himself to think about the detective…

He was amused by Loki, at first. Now he wasn’t.

“Tell me, Loki of Asgard,” Lucifer said, his demeanor changing, his smile darker, his eyes burning. As he stepped forward, he felt the flesh melting away from his face, revealing the red, scarred, burned atrocity underneath. His devil face made its full appearance as he continued to walk forwards towards Loki. The Asgardian walked forward too, his boots clicking lightly in the silence, the only other noise the distant banging of the agents. Loki’s eyes were bright with curiosity and intensity, his gaze unflinchingly meeting his devil face. The glass barely seemed there. He could see Loki’s every careful breath. Their eyes melted into one another, red piercing into blue.

“ _What is it you desire?_ ”

He had a strong will, one of the strongest he’d ever encountered. Normally Lucifer didn’t have to push this hard, and at any other time, he surely would have given up by now. But he was angry, and tugged and pulled and pushed, refusing to let the intensity of the moment break. Lucifer could see the struggle taking place inside Loki, clearly trying to will himself into breaking away, but he remained rooted to the ground. Lucifer coaxed him on, murmuring gently, “You know you want to. You can tell me, Loki. You can trust me. Just let it out, Loki…”

To his surprise, Loki’s skin was slowly turning blue. At first Lucifer thought it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but no, Lucifer could visibly see it happening. Loki didn’t seem to notice it was occurring. His pink skin was fading, frostbitten blue bubbling to the surface, and strange runic markings taking over his forehead. Finally, his piercing blue eyes dimmed until it was replaced by a burning red. Just like Lucifer’s.

Lucifer wasn’t sure if he was breathing as he stared, red gazing into red. They were feeding off one another, their energies increasing. Distantly, he was aware that he must be breathing, as he was still whispering assurances to Loki, his mouth entirely on autopilot. He could feel every little twitch of his body. His rough, scarred, and burning flesh rubbed uncomfortably against his suit, causing uncomfortable itching from head to toe. He resisted the urge to flee, his eyes still pouring into Loki’s. He smelled his shoes smoldering, yet still, he stayed put.

His wings popped out, almost by instinct, and Lucifer knew without looking that it was his devil ones. The clawed, leathery, bat-like monstrosities. He felt them stretch to its full wingspan, dominating the space, curling instinctively around the edges of the glass tank. Once they reached out, they barely twitched. Lucifer didn’t dare move, and neither did Loki. The air was thick, stifling. Despite the forced distance he felt sucked in and didn’t dare let go.

After a few minutes, or maybe a year, Loki finally broke. “I just want my father’s respect,” he softly breathed.

It was like someone had drawn through the air with a knife. The connection was completely severed. Lucifer and Loki stumbled backwards simultaneously, both gasping for air. Lucifer’s wings retracted immediately, and Loki’s skin flashed back to a healthier color. His eyes blurred into its normal blue. But other than his wings, Lucifer’s devil form remained.

Lucifer began to laugh, mirth exploding from him until he could scarcely breathe. He couldn’t remember what was so funny at first, but then he remembered, and laughed harder until he was leaning over and invisible tears were rolling down his scarred cheeks. His eye twitched.

“Your father’s respect?” Lucifer gasped out. “One wayward son to another, you’ve got to let that go. If you’re hung up on that all the time, then you’ll never move on.”

“Tell that to yourself,” Loki replied softly, taking in Lucifer’s devilish, insane form. His eyes unflinchingly met his. Lucifer instantly sobered, and he resisted the urge to flinch. His human skin bubbled forward in patches across his body until he was fully human in appearance once more.

The door burst open, startling them both. Lucifer quickly lifted up his wings – his devil ones – and vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer: Imma have an angsty, semi-homoerotic moment with Loki.  
> Me: WTF dude no. That's not in the plan. This was supposed to be funny!  
> Lucifer: Too bad. I'm gonna do it.  
> Me: *face palm*


	4. Wild Card

Lucifer Morningstar was a mess. He’d just interrogated Loki, but instead of getting answers to his dilemmas, he’d just been forced to face uncomfortable truths and – shit, did he really show off his devil form in all its glory? How had he forgotten that everyone was watching? He’d nearly lost it. No, scratch that. He had lost it. Fury was surely about to kick him out of the helicarrier for being unstable. He hadn’t meant to show them all his devil form; it had happened accidentally. They were not going to accept him now. It was one thing to be told that Lucifer Morningstar was the Devil, but it was another thing entirely to see it.

Lucifer lingered in the dimensional void, not aiming for anywhere.

The next second, he reappeared in his chair on the bridge, the one right next to Douche Two. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at any of them right now.

Had he really just sat here mere minutes ago? It felt like a lifetime. Something in him had changed. He folded up his wings and simply sat, feeling numb. Refusing to look up or meet anyone else’s eyes, Lucifer placed his arms on the table. His hands were shaking. When had that happened?

He suddenly realized that he probably looked like shit. He knew his hair was rumpled. His whole body was trembling now. Looking down, Lucifer realized that a few buttons on his shirt must have burst open when he turned into his devil form, so his suit was a mess. His shirt also still had the bullet holes from when he first arrived.

Great. Just… great.

“Lucifer?” a soft voice said. Romanoff. Lucifer slowly looked up, unwillingly meeting her eyes. To his relief, there was neither pity nor fear there.

“I’m fine,” Lucifer found himself saying, even though nobody had asked. He could tell Romanoff didn’t believe him, but she nodded anyway. Lucifer looked back towards the ground.

“Are-” someone began. Lucifer didn’t even know who.

“I said I’m fine!” Lucifer shouted, leaping up off his chair. He refused to look up and face their judgment. This was ridiculous. He wouldn’t be kept here; he wouldn’t be made to be kept here. Lucifer got the sudden, swooping urge to leave.

So he did. With a single flash of his wings, he was gone.

When he left the helicarrier, he didn’t have a clear idea of where he was going. He let his subconscious thoughts guide him towards his destination. He didn’t really know where he was going until he got there, but once he was there, he realized, _of course_. How could he be headed anywhere else?

Lucifer found himself standing in the middle of a paved road, and when he looked up, he found that he was surrounded by elegant apartment buildings. His eyes immediately latched onto a pale, yellow building that had dozens of balconies. There were doors opening and closing, people laughing, but Lucifer ignored them. He had one door in mind, one pure white door. It was three floors up, and it was closed at the moment.

A car honked loudly, and only then did Lucifer notice that it had nearly run him over. He hurried over to the sidewalk as the driver flipped him the bird, but Lucifer barely noticed. He was too busy staring at the door. The Detective’s door.

More than anything, he wanted to climb up those stairs and burst in without knocking, like he had done a hundred times before. He’d take Chloe’s exasperated face. He’d even take her angry or disappointed face as long as she would just be there. Please, please let her be there. But Lucifer couldn’t move, couldn’t bring himself to climb those stairs.

He had no idea how long he stood there, but eventually the door opened. A little black boy barely older than a toddler emerged, followed by two people who were clearly the boy’s parents. He watched as the mother locked the door behind them and began walking down the stairs.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_. Of course the Detective didn’t live here. She’d only been able to afford this place because she secured Maze as a roommate, and without Lucifer on this Earth, Maze obviously didn’t exist either. Plus, Lucifer was the one who recommended this place after one of their cases. How could he be so stupid? He deflated, kicking a rock on the pavement and accidentally startling a passerby. But Lucifer was already walking again, eager to get away. Anywhere but here.

He stared dejectedly at the ground, letting his feet aimlessly wander. He barely noticed the honking of horns or the scathing looks people sent them when he bumped into them. He was lost in his own mind, thinking of the Detective. He’d left her and broken her heart so he could go to Hell and protect them all, but he hadn’t ended up in Hell. It had all been pointless. He’d left her for nothing.

Lucifer’s feet carried him to the beach. His beach. This beach was filled with memories. He remembered the exact spot where he had landed after leaving Hell. Where Maze cut off his wings for the first time. Where Lucifer and Amenadiel would later have a fight over those same wings. Where he and the Detective exchanged their first kiss. It looked the same as ever. Yet it felt… wrong, somehow. Because Lucifer knew it wasn’t really this beach where all of that had happened. It was on a different Earth. This beach might look identical, but it wasn’t actually his beach.

Lucifer knelt on the ground, dirtying his already ruined suit. He ran his fingers through the sand. It was peaceful, and even though it was only early morning, kids were chasing each other and laughing. They had no idea of his troubles, or the world’s troubles. They had no idea that there was an alien out there who was hell-bent on invading Earth. Lucifer knew he ought to get back to the helicarrier. He knew that he should do something. But honestly, he just wanted to stay here and mourn.

Why should he care for the people on this Earth? He didn’t know them. They barely seemed real. He could leave, go party or something, until he figured out how to get back to Hell. He wasn’t attached to any of these people. He didn’t know any of them, and he certainly didn’t have any obligation to them.

So why did he feel guilty for leaving?

This is something he’d normally ask Dr. Linda. Could he ask this world’s Linda? Did this world even have a Linda? Lucifer spotted someone’s phone sitting abandoned on their towel, so he snatched it. The phone was protected by a passcode, but to his pleasant surprise, it opened at his first guess – 6969. At least this world had still developed excellent sexual positions. If that wasn’t the case, he’d have to fling himself off a cliff right now.

Lucifer pulled up a browser and googled Linda’s name. Dr. Linda Martin didn’t exist. But a Detective Chloe Decker of the LAPD did exist. Of course she would still be a cop in this world. Lucifer let a small smile flit onto his face before tossing the phone back and flying off.

He arrived just outside the precinct. It looked the same as always, like it had on his Earth. He leaned against the brick wall outside, finding that he still had a lighter and a pack of cigarettes from ages ago in his jacket pocket. He flicked open his lighter, putting off the moment when he’d go inside. Going inside, when everything had changed and nobody knew him, would just be wrong. Maybe he could stay outside the building and imagine that it was just a regular day. Maybe he was waiting outside for the Detective to come to him with a case. Or maybe she’d gotten pissed off at him for disturbing some earthly social norm and he was waiting for her to cool off. He’d give anything to see her annoyed face.

As he focused on lighting his cigarette, he heard a voice ask, “Are you okay, sir?”

It was _her_. His detective. She looked the same as ever, her hair wrapped up in a bun, wearing her bland clothes and holding a coffee in one hand. She’d just exited the doors of the precinct, evidently headed for her car, probably to chase down a lead. Judging by the circles around her eyes, she hadn’t gotten much sleep. She had probably stayed up late, obsessed with another case, per usual. And without him there, she had no one to cheer her up.

Lucifer gaped at her, his brain struggling to comprehend the concerned look of a Chloe that didn’t know him. As her words caught up to him, Lucifer realized how ridiculous he must look. His hair was disheveled, his suit was rumpled and filled with holes. He was standing alone outside a police precinct. And now he was staring at her. Of course she was concerned.

“Erm, I’ll be fine,” Lucifer choked out.

“Right,” the Detective said, her brow furrowed skeptically. After she sent one sweeping last look at his unkept appearance, she turned towards her car.

“Wait! Detective!” Lucifer blurted out. He struggled to find something to say as the Detective turned back around to face him. As such, he stumbled over his words, which was very uncharacteristic of him. “What did – sorry, why did you decide to become a police officer?” He’d asked her this question before, years ago, and he got a similar answer now.

“I wanted to help people,” Chloe said, looking contemplative. She rested her coffee cup on the roof of her car, her hand gently hovering over it. “My dad was a police officer, and he did a lot of good, and I suppose I want to help people like he did.” Her demeanor had changed, and she was thoughtful and inquisitive towards him. Warmer.

“But… why did you decide that you wanted to help people?” Lucifer asked. He had joined on as her consultant because he was intrigued by her, and then because he enjoyed punishing criminals. But he rarely did acts of charity. He didn’t believe he was driven by goodness and purity like she was.

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Chloe said easily. “Because it makes me feel good when I help people and bring them justice. Think about it – if you or someone you loved were in danger or trouble, wouldn’t you want someone to help them?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. He didn’t particularly care about strangers helping himself, but when it came to the Detective? Of course he’d want someone to help her, to save her if she was in danger.

“There you go then,” the Detective said, giving him one of her rare grins that made Lucifer fall in love with her in the first place.

“Thanks,” Lucifer murmured, watching as she climbed into the car, setting down her coffee in the cupholder and turning her keys into the ignition.

She might be his detective, but she was still similar enough that he wanted her protected at all costs. Shouldn’t he make sure her Earth didn’t fall under strange alien forces? That she didn’t perish in some extraterrestrial attack? If she died, it would feel like he actually lost her. He wouldn’t be able to face himself if he did.

“Goodbye, Detective,” he whispered as he watched her drive away, and he desperately tried to memorize every bit of her face, like he was seeing her for the last time.

Because maybe he was.

With that conversation out of the way, Lucifer turned to focusing on where he should go from here. He ought to get back to the helicarrier, shouldn’t he? To save the world and all that? If something was going down, that’s where it would be, presuming he wasn’t already too late. He didn’t have a watch, but with all his moping, he guessed it might have been a few hours since he left everyone.

Lucifer ducked into an alleyway adjacent to the precinct before opening up his wings. He let out a soft, contented sigh once his wings were out. He took a moment to ruffle out his feathers – they’d been looking a little worse for wear, lately – and vanished, focusing on the helicarrier, focusing his mind’s eye on the specific seat on the deck from which he came before.

But when he came back, he immediately noticed that something was off. He was in the same room he’d been in hours ago, but the tension and stifled emotion in the air was immediately obvious. Everything was… wrong. Fury was standing up, but Douche Two and Stark were in their seats, their faces stern and mournful. The rest of the deck was mostly abandoned, a bizarre change from the bustling activity from earlier. There were bloody trading cards with the Douche’s face on the table in front of him. And, strangest of all, there was a giant hole in the wall. Now that he noticed the damage, Lucifer noticed smaller details that indicated unrest, such as sparking machines and bent metal railings. Had there been some kind of attack?

“You,” Stark said, sounding both shocked and furious at Lucifer’s presence. Douche Two looked equally as angry, a disappointed look overshadowing whatever emotion he’d been sporting previously. What had Lucifer waded into? “Where the Hell have you been?”

“Well,” Lucifer began, looking at Stark pleadingly, “I haven’t been to Hell, unfortunately. But I had to go- “

“-I don’t want to hear it,” Stark interrupted, looking like he regretted letting Lucifer speak. “It doesn’t matter.” Stark got up abruptly from his seat and walked away.

Lucifer looked around, flabbergasted. He’d clearly missed out on some shit. Fury was speaking to Douche Two – something about some Avengers Initiative – and then directed his attention to Lucifer.

“What in the name of Dad happened here?” Lucifer asked, desperate for some answers. Steve shot an angry look at Lucifer before walking away. Now it was just Fury, Lucifer, and those stupid bloody cards. The cards were of a grinning Douche Two – that costume really was ridiculous, wasn’t it? It was a sharp contrast to the scowling man who had just left.

“Loki happened,” Fury said in response to Lucifer’s question. The man looked world-weary, and his brow was furrowed with worry. “His people attacked, and we lost Coulson. Loki’s in the wind.”

Lucifer frowned at the name – Coulson. He looked down at the trading cards. Weren’t those the cards the agent guy was prattling on about? Right, now he remembered who Coulson was. He was the Douche Two fanboy.

“Well, that’s no great loss,” Lucifer said brazenly. “Clearly, he had Douche Two on some sort of pedestal, so his dreams were going to be crushed eventually. I’d say the poor chap is probably better off wherever he is, presuming he went to Heaven.”

Fury’s single eye fixed Lucifer with a look that was uncharacteristically emotional, full of rage, pain, and grief. Right. He was used to hanging out with Ms. Lopez and the Detective, both of whom were unphased by the dead. Ms. Lopez was usually cracking jokes over the dead bodies. Fury had probably seen a lot of deaths, too. But supposedly this Coulson guy was someone they knew personally, so they had to go through the human grieving process. He remembered what the people on his Earth went through when Charlotte died. That explained why Fury and his team were all irrationally mad at him.

Really though, he didn’t think Douche Two even knew Coulson for very long. Hadn’t they just met?

But then Lucifer remembered Father Frank, and he understood.

“What happened to Bruce?” Lucifer asked, noticing the scientist wasn’t there.

“He went Code Green, and now he’s in the wind,” Fury said softly, leaning over one of the chairs around them.

“I missed him turning into a giant green rage monster?” Lucifer said. “I was hoping I’d be around for that!”

“You really don’t want to be around for that,” Fury corrected. “He nearly brought down the helicarrier.”

“Pity I missed it,” Lucifer said. “What about… what’s his name? Tall, blonde, long-haired, handsome… Thor! That’s it.”

“Also in the wind,” Fury said grimly.

Lucifer let out a low whistle. “All the fun happens when I’m away. Seriously, I leave for one trip to the beach, and all the action happens. Someone in this universe clearly hates me. I blame Dad.”

Fury, who had been looking rather dejectedly at the floor, looked back up and made eye contact with Lucifer. “Morningstar, I am entirely prepared to bench you,” he said. “Now, I don’t know whether you’re the Devil or not–”

“–I am the Devil –” Lucifer interrupted.

“–But the fact remains that we know very little about you,” Fury continued. “Everyone else here we know exactly where their loyalties lie. All of them have saved lives or even saved the world. You have done no such thing. You are a complete and total wild card.”

“I’ve saved the world!” Lucifer said. “You just don’t know about it since I’ve been in another dimension. But I prevented a demon uprising – well, not really prevented, but I stopped one at least – and I prevented my mother from spewing celestial light everywhere, which definitely would have killed a lot of people –”

“–We have no proof of this,” Fury said. “Only your word, and I’m not the most trusting person. The last time I trusted someone, I lost an eye.”

“Really?” Lucifer said, eyeing the man’s eye with fascination. He could see the hint of a few scratches extending out from under the eyepatch. “Who’d you trust? No, don’t tell me – was it a demon? That’s definitely the type of work a demon could do. Oooh, I know – a beloved coworker who was secretly an alien. Think I saw that in a movie.”

“It doesn’t matter who it was,” Fury said. “The point is, I don’t trust you. It didn’t help your case that you vanished right before a crisis.”

“You can choose to believe me or choose not to believe me,” Lucifer said plainly. “But the fact of the matter is, I don’t lie. If you choose not to trust me, I’m quite certain you can’t hold me.”

“You might be surprised by the things S.H.I.E.L.D. has in its possession,” Fury said. “I’m sure we could work out something.”

“Oh, I’m quite certain that would be a mistake,” Lucifer said, his voice becoming dangerously low and his eyes flashing red.

The tension broke between them, however, when Stark and Douche Two entered the deck again, from where they had been having some sort of moment outside. They looked as grim as before, but there was a new spark of determination that hadn’t been there before.

“Loki’s headed to Stark Tower,” Douche Two said. He looked at Lucifer and said, “Suit up,” in a tone that clearly meant he was willing to put aside his differences for now.

Lucifer glanced down at this suit. It had seen far better days. It was rather tattered, had bullet holes, all of his buttons were missing, and there was sand on his knees. This was the messiest he’d ever looked in his whole life. Yes, Douche Two was right. He’d have to get a new suit if he wanted to go out to the battle with dignity. There was no way he could face an alien invasion in this shabby excuse for clothing.

Lucifer vanished, and he flew to one of his favorite streets in recent history – Via Tornabuoni in Florence, Italy. It was a street lined with some of his favorite brands – Burberry, Loro Piana, and of course, Prada. The buildings were quaint, and their elegant, classical style stone arches marked the entrances. He looked at the stone street and saw the mess of people traveling along, flitting in and out of shops.

Today, he decided to focus on Saint Laurent. It was a rather unfortunate name – Lucifer had met the bloke, and he’d died pointlessly – but the clothing brand was excellent. He hadn’t worn any of their things in a while.

When Lucifer entered, he realized he was in a rather peculiar situation. Back in L.A., he’d normally be able to get a suit just by cashing in on a favor or promising a favor, but here his reputation hadn’t been built up yet. Humans seemed to be rather reticent on providing something without getting something back immediately, and Lucifer didn’t even have any money. On his Earth, he had dozens of vaults around the world that he’d dig up when he was topside, so he was never without some form of currency. But here he was penniless.

“Hello! Buongiorno! Good morning! Actually, I have no idea what time of day it is,” Lucifer shouted, as he entered with a flourish. The bell jangled overhead. There were two employees, both of them with slick black hair that was graying. They seemed to be around middle-aged, and of course they were both wearing top-of-the-line suits. One of them stood behind the counter in the back and the other was near the door. Other than them, there was no one else in the store. Excellent.

“Can we help you?” the closest employee asked, as he suspiciously looked at Lucifer’s disheveled appearance. He wore thin glasses that made him look dignified.

“Yes, I need a suit. Normally, I would pay, but I don’t have any money on this Earth. But I think I can do some favors in exchange for it, don’t you think?”

“Sir, we don’t–” the man began.

“–Excellent. Now tell me – what is it you desire?” Lucifer asked, using his signature trick. He let the other man stare deep into his eyes as he coaxed him out of his shell.

“I – I just want a vacation,” the other man sputtered out.

“Well, that can be easily arranged!” Lucifer said, throwing his hands up into the air. “Where do you want to go?”

“The beach,” he said.

“Right,” Lucifer said. “Sounds good.” Lucifer opened up his wings in the middle of the shop and both employees stared at him with shock. “Normally I’d be a bit more cautious with this sort of thing, but this isn’t my Earth and I’m on a bit of a time crunch.” Lucifer grabbed the other man’s arm and deposited him at a beach. He went to Cala Violina in Tuscany once, and it was rather nice if a bit sandy, so Lucifer dropped the man there. The poor man looked like he was about to pass out. Lucifer gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder and then flitted back inside Saint Laurent.

“Right,” Lucifer said, approaching the other employee at the counter. He looked, frankly, terrified. “Now that all of that is out of the way, what do you desire?” Lucifer held the man’s gaze, and it took a little longer – he was more difficult than his coworker.

“I just want to talk to my daughter,” the man said. “I gave her up when she was young, but I shouldn’t have, and I don’t know how to get into contact with her–”

“Well, well, I can certainly help you out,” Lucifer said. “Write down everything you know about her – name, birthday, and such, and I’ll be back soon.”

After the man wrote down the information, Lucifer headed off to the one place he knew he could get the information – S.H.I.E.L.D. Specifically, the helicarrier. He landed right at one of the computers and looked up the current information for the man’s daughter. Did S.H.I.E.L.D. really have everyone in their database? Impressive. Once he scribbled down the woman’s current contact information, Lucifer stretched out his wings and headed back to Florence. His wings were getting quite the workout today.

“Right, here you go,” Lucifer said, handing the paper over to the man. He was gaping openly at Lucifer’s wings. “I’ll have to ask you to save the teary-eyed reunion until I leave, however. I have an alien invasion to stop, you know how it is.” The man mutely nodded.

The man measured Lucifer for a suit, muttering to himself and softly cursing in Italian as he looked Lucifer up and down. When Lucifer was trying one of the suits on, the man finally said, “Is Teo going to be alright?”

“Teo? Oh – your co-worker, you mean? Yes, of course he’ll be fine, he’s at the beach,” Lucifer said dismissively.

“But did he have anything with him when you brought him there?” the man asked.

“Other than his clothes? No,” Lucifer said, frowning, wondering where the man was going with this.

“So no bathing suit, or money, or anything…?” the man continued.

“You don’t need a bathing suit to swim. The whole ‘clothed’ thing is rather new. Many cultures go swimming in the nude,” Lucifer smirked.

“But if he doesn’t have any money, or a phone, or anything else, how will he get home?” the man asked with agitation.

Lucifer frowned. “Excellent point. I’ll pick him up after the alien invasion.”

The employee didn’t seem to know what to say to that, so he continued offering up things for Lucifer to try on in their dressing room.

One black dinner jacket, one light grey button-up, and one pair of black leg pants later, Lucifer was ready to go. It was a rather dark ensemble, apart from the button-up shirt, but he liked it. After a quick moment in their bathroom and several minutes with some product, his hair looked as perfect as ever.

He was ready for battle.


	5. Thanks for the Spare Cubicle

It didn’t take long for Lucifer to arrive at New York City. He hovered above everyone, watching the scope of the skyscrapers. He’d been to NYC on his own Earth before, nearly half a century ago, and it was just as sparkling and larger than life that it had been then. There were minor changes to the skyline, of course, as buildings both rise and fall, but Lucifer didn’t know the city very well. He could rarely pick out specifics.

The minute Lucifer started descending from the sky, his wings outstretched, he felt the presence of the Tesseract. It was drawing him in, right to the place Lucifer was already headed: Stark Tower. The building shone in the daylight, the glass windows sparkling from the sun. It was a very distinctive building. Unlike the other skyscrapers, which resembled the rigidity of LEGO blocks, Stark Tower was smooth and curved, with a large platform sticking out of it. No doubt the platform was designed so Stark could land there using his suit, but Lucifer landed on the roof of the Tower instead. He could feel the presence of the Tesseract there, like it was calling him.

Not only could he feel the Tesseract’s presence, but now, he could see it too. He first noticed an extremely large, technical contraption. It must have been at least twenty feet tall, with parts of complex machinery sticking out and twisted like a child had just taken random materials and pressed them together. But despite its clunky appearance, whatever it was seemed to be working. The round panels at the top were slowly spinning. And in the center was the Tesseract, balanced in the air using the tendrils of energy that shot out from the machine. Off to the side stood the same disheveled scientist that Loki had seen working on the Tesseract when he first arrived on Earth. He was working on a computer that was hooked up to the machine, giving it commands.

Lucifer set himself on the gravel roof, scoffing at the small pebbles. They’d better not get in his new shoes. He waltzed up to the machine, fully intending to pluck the Tesseract right out of there, but he was abruptly thrown backwards when he got within five feet. Lucifer slowly sat up, resting his weight on his elbows, staring at the contraption with shock. There wasn’t much that could repel him. He was the Devil.

“She’s ready,” the scientist breathed, a dazed expression on his face. His eyes were a piercing blue, a blue Lucifer was sure he would have noticed if it was there when he saw the scientist before. Something dark was at play here. He wasn’t the same man as before.

But Lucifer was distracted by his thoughts when the spinning top spun even faster and jet of blue energy shot out at the sky. Lucifer gaped, fascinated, as high above them, the blue of the sky turned black, like it was ripping apart the sky. It expanded, the hole growing wider, until…

Lucifer stared in awe as aliens on little spacecrafts spilled out of it. Evidently all the Tesseract had done was create another hole in the same universe, albeit thousands of light-years away, but it was still extremely powerful. There was no longer any doubt in his mind that it could rip through dimensions and bring him here, to this world.

But for the moment, Lucifer let his musings about the Tesseract fall to the back of his mind. Right now, he had bigger problems.

Like the aliens that were shooting lasers at everyone in the city below.

Lucifer was at a significant disadvantage with the Tesseract pulling him in, meaning he couldn’t shift into the dimensional void to fly around rapidly. But he could travel in this plane, the traditional manner, with no trouble, so Lucifer let his wings unfold and dived off the top of the roof. His beautiful, white wings were outstretched, carrying him with ease. He felt a rush of joy as the air battered his face and his wings – it had been a long time since he’d flown properly.

It had been a long time since Lucifer had a fight in the air too. Demons couldn’t fly, after all, and neither could humans. The only fights he had in the air were with his siblings, and that was usually one at a time. There was never an army of them, except for one time, and Lucifer refused to think of that time. So this was a mostly novel experience, which was exhilarating for him. It was rare that he got truly novel experiences.

Lucifer quickly figured out a fighting strategy – mostly it was just him flying over to one of the speeding vehicles, tossing the aliens off of them, and then moving onto the next one. He quickly figured out that the aliens lacked skills in hand-to-hand combat. They tried to get Lucifer with their laser guns, but Lucifer always disarmed them before they fired. Pathetic, really.

After a few minutes, Lucifer’s attention was diverted by a rather large… beast. He wasn’t sure how to describe it. It looked rather like a giant, armored worm. If worms, of course, were about the length of three skyscrapers. It was advancing towards something, some small flying dot, and – yup, that must be Stark in his flying tank thing. Iron Man? He’d heard him called that. Lucifer switched on the comm that he’d swiped earlier. He wasn’t one for teamwork, but this seemed like it would be helpful.

“Need help, Stark?” Lucifer offered snidely as he flew over to the armored man.

“Yeah, a hand might be useful,” Stark said, as he flew by Lucifer. “I’m bringing the party to the rest of the team.”

“Excellent. I love parties!” Lucifer said joyfully, ignoring the fact that their definition of a party was a giant alien. The pair of them flew side by side, leading the giant flying alien towards a small gathering below. Lucifer could see the bright colors of Douche Two’s suit a mile away. Seriously, why did that man willingly put that thing on?

“I don’t see how that’s a party,” Romanoff said as she saw what was headed towards them. Now that he was close, Lucifer could see everyone on the ground – there was Romanoff, Douche Two, Thor, Bruce, and one of the agent fellows from when Lucifer first arrived. Barton? He was now carrying bow and arrows. Awesome. It made Lucifer nostalgic for the old days.

“Dr. Banner, now might be a really good time for you to get angry,” Douche Two was advising.

“That’s my secret Cap – I’m always angry,” mild-mannered Bruce remarked. But he turned around, faced the giant alien without a hint of fear in his eyes, and transfigured himself a powerful green creature. The new, powerful Bruce took his fist and drove it straight into the alien’s face, stopping it in its tracks.

“That is AMAZING!” Lucifer shouted as he gaped at Bruce. He was at least fifteen feet tall, with bulging biceps, ripped pants, and a shirtless chest. It was recognizably him – his face had similar features – but if Lucifer hadn’t seen the transformation, he would have assumed this was something entirely different from Bruce. Stark had mentioned that Bruce turned into a giant green rage monster, but that was underselling it. Lucifer was definitely turned on right now.

Was it wrong for Lucifer to be attracted to Bruce’s monster form? It was, wasn’t it? To be fair, he was showing a lot of muscles and was probably the only non-celestial being that had a chance of taking Lucifer in a fight. The thought of that alone aroused him. Those biceps…

Lucifer opened up his wings – his angel ones – and his primary feathers stiffened until they were sharp like knives. He flew up, twisted in a spiral, and sped like a missile towards the chink in the creatures’ armor. He let his feathers slice it up, trying not to cringe as alien guts spilled onto his pristine white feathers. His wings were going to need a thorough cleaning later.

The great beast thudded to the ground, dead and bleeding out. Lucifer landed neatly on his feet beside it. In his opinion, he looked pretty badass.

Lucifer turned around to face the other six members of Fury’s team, and he was pleased to note that they were gaping at him. Everyone except Bruce’s monster form, that is. From what Lucifer could tell from the past minute or so, there was some sort of change neurologically as well when Bruce transformed. It wasn’t like Lucifer’s devil form at all.

All seven of them, Lucifer included, were startled by the smaller aliens giving off anguished screams. Instinctively, they formed a circle, their backs to one another. Lucifer felt an odd feeling rising through his chest. It felt like a sudden warmth penetrating his heart. It was a very specific feeling that he’d felt before, only a few days ago. He’d felt it when himself, Amenadiel, Eve, and Maze had faced off against Dromos and his army.

It was pride. Comradeship. The feeling of belonging to a team.

Linda would be proud of him for figuring out that emotion all on his own.

“Guys,” Romanoff said warningly, and Lucifer snapped back to attention. There were more aliens descending from the portal in the sky. There were several of the huge aliens as well, the ones that just took a several of them to bring only one down. Great. Just… great.

“Call it, Captain,” Stark said. Their eyes all flitted towards the Douche.

“Alright, listen up. Until we can close up that portal our priority is containment,” Douche Two announced, gesturing and pointing with his hands. “Barton, I want you on that roof. Eyes on everything. Call out patterns and strays. Stark, you got the perimeter. Anything gets more than three blocks out; you turn it back or you turn it to ash.”

“Can you give me a lift?” Barton asked, and Stark nodded.

“Right. Better clench up, Legolas,” Stark said.

Lucifer was the tiniest bit offended that Stark seemed to have an affinity for nicknames and pop culture references. That was supposed to be his thing. People kept stealing his schtick.

After Stark and Barton flew off together – Lucifer tried not to snicker at the image of Stark lifting Barton up like a rag doll – Douche Two turned towards him.

“Lucifer, you can fly, and you’ve got super strength. I need you to take down the most dangerous aspects of Loki’s army. Aim for the ships – they’ll do the most damage if they roam unchecked. Make sure they don’t escape Stark’s perimeter,” Douche Two instructed.

“To be clear, I’ll do that because it’s a good idea, not because you told me so,” Lucifer said hotly.

To his surprise, Douche Two – the epitome of honor and patriotism itself – rolled his eyes. Lucifer was proud of himself for getting under the other man’s skin.

He didn’t wait around for everyone else’s instructions. Lucifer took off, his eye already on one of the giant aliens.

He should really come up with a good name for them. They were surprisingly flexible despite their size, slithering along like they did. It reminded him of one of his former lovers, Greg. He was a large, burly and muscular man, but he was as flexible as an acrobat. The things they did together…

Right. That decided it. He was naming these giant aliens Greg, for convenience sake. Greg was a dull name, but it worked. He didn’t have any better ideas.

Lucifer landed on the back of one Greg. There were several of the smaller aliens on its back as well, but Lucifer easily pushed them off. Their laser guns and spears were ineffective against him – obviously these creatures didn’t have any divinity – so it was barely a fight.

Now that he was up close on one of the Gregs, Lucifer could clearly see how the armored plates overlapped. It was evident that its fleshy insides could only reveal itself if the Greg contorted itself a certain way, like it had when Bruce punched it to a stop. But luckily for Lucifer, his wings were thin enough to slip in between the plates.

Having finally come up with a plan, Lucifer ran up to the Greg’s neck and balanced himself precariously, barely staying on with the Greg twisting and wiggling in the air. But he remained stable enough that Lucifer was able to slip in his sharpened feathers between the plates and slash its throat.

He had aimed well. There was no need for a second blow. The creature withered and screamed, and Lucifer was flung off as the Greg tumbled from the sky. Lucifer frantically tried to keep himself afloat, his wings flapping in the air as he watched the Greg fall below him. It landed on a rather large apartment building, and Lucifer heard the screams of the people below.

_Bloody Hell_ , Lucifer thought. He really didn’t like this whole saving-people thing – he’d never fashioned himself as some sort of hero – but he always liked to lessen Azrael’s workload. And he didn’t enjoy the suffering of innocents. So Lucifer dived, lifting up the Greg that was crushing the structure of the building below. He wasn’t really sure where to put it, but the street was mostly abandoned, so Lucifer tossed it onto the street. Only the top floor of the apartment building was significantly damaged, and the roof had ceased caving in.

After that first Greg, Lucifer quickly made work of the other Gregs. Slitting its throat reminded Lucifer too much of demon executions in Hell, but it was the most efficient way to take them out. Lucifer made sure the dead Gregs either landed on abandoned streets, or on buildings that were already abandoned. He was rather proud of himself.

The Gregs had a lot of the smaller aliens leaping onto them, however, and Lucifer found himself overwhelmed by sheer numbers. They weren’t very talented fighters, but they made up for it with sheer force. While Lucifer was trying to fend some of them off, he was pushed into a building.

Lucifer fell against the glass window of a skyscraper, crashing through and rolling to a still in a cubicle of some sort of office building. The cubicle was abandoned, and Lucifer took a moment to groan from the floor as he struggled to lift himself up. He was quite exhausted. His wings accidentally smacked some files off the desk, causing paper to flutter around him until it landed softly on the ground beside him.

He heard something moving and Lucifer leapt to his feet, causing the movement to stop and someone to let out a brief, startled scream. He thought it was an alien, but no, it was just an ordinary human woman. Her brown hair was a bit of a mess and her makeup was smeared, which was understandable given the circumstances. Lucifer, with his head above the cubicle wall now that he was standing, could see that dozens of people were peering at him from their own cubicles. They seemed gob-smacked.

“Hello, humans,” Lucifer greeted. “Thanks for the spare cubicle, I really appreciated it.”

Then Lucifer leapt out of the window.

His wings stretched out and he _soared_. Lucifer sighed with relief as he felt the air between his feathers. It had been ages since he felt this alive, this free. He hadn’t fully appreciated or accepted his wings when he got them back, and then he could only access his Devil wings for the longest time. Angelic self-actualization was a bitch.

“Lucifer, you’ve got some strays on your tail,” Barton said in his ear.

“I have tail now!?” Lucifer exclaimed, twisting and turning in the air, trying to see if he was now sporting a tail. If he had a tail, and Mazikeen saw, he might as well just hide down in Hell forever. He wasn’t sure if a tail or horns would be worse. He really hoped he would never sport horns.

“No! You have some incoming-” Clint said, but Lucifer stopped listening once an alien barreled him over and nearly knocked him out of the sky. Oh. That was what he meant.

Lucifer grabbled with the aliens as they went free-falling in the sky, and Lucifer landed roughly on the back of another Greg. The aliens tumbled to the ground below, and Lucifer shakily got up.

“Bruce!” Lucifer said cheerily as he saw the man in his monster form merely feet away from him. Lucifer wasn’t sure what Bruce’s orders were, but Bruce didn’t need any sort of strategy – he was quite literally tearing the Greg apart. He pulled the armor off with brute force and just punched the Greg into submission. It was fascinating to watch. After that Greg started spiraling towards the ground, Lucifer and Bruce leapt off, landing on another Greg. The pair of them made a pretty good team. But then Thor landed on their Greg and started taking out some of the smaller aliens that Lucifer hadn’t gotten to yet.

“Bugger off!” Lucifer shouted at him. “Put your hammer in some other hole! Ride some other dicks!” he added, struggling to keep a straight face. Unfortunately, the sexual innuendos seemed entirely lost on the other fellow. But Thor did take the overall message to heart and left to pursue some other aliens. Good riddance.

Lucifer kept fighting long past the point of exhaustion. At some point Bruce had left him – he wasn’t sure when – and Lucifer was on auto-pilot. He couldn’t tell you how many aliens he took down, only that it was a lot. Explosions were like background noise.

Eventually, everyone was yelling in his ear something about the portal and something about a missile, but Lucifer was distracted with one particularly volatile Greg that kept flinging him off. It was quite annoying. By the time Lucifer looked up, he had only just enough time to see Stark disappear into the portal. He didn’t really know what was happening, but he pitied Stark’s chances.

Was this what the Detective meant when she said that Lucifer should pay attention more often?

The Greg Lucifer was subduing abruptly dived towards the ground, and Lucifer realized that all the other aliens had fallen to the ground. Dead, apparently. He landed next to one of the fallen aliens and kicked it. Yup, it was dead.

Lucifer fluffed out his wings, making sure it was free of alien guts – nobody cared if some goo got on a billboard, right? – and flew towards the bridge where he could see a red, white, and blue idiot in the distance. Stark was laying on the ground, with Douche Two, Thor, and Bruce besides him.

“Shawarma! Do you want to do shawarma?” Stark shouted at him as Lucifer landed on his feet.

It seemed like a bit of a dramatic topic change for Lucifer, and he was the king of changing the topic. But he supposed eating shawarma after an alien invasion was appropriate.

“My Earth has a lovely shawarma place in Los Angeles,” Lucifer said. “I don’t know any in New York.”

“There’s a great joint right around the corner,” Stark told him. “Has the best shawarma, trust me. Definitely better than Los Angeles.”

“Challenge accepted,” Lucifer said, eyes glinting. “Nothing’s better than Los Angeles.”

“You’re on,” Stark said, grinning.

“It’s not over yet,” Thor said. Oh, right. Loki was probably still out there, wasn’t he?

“Don’t be such a buzzkill,” Lucifer said.

“Shawarma after?” Stark suggested.

They headed up to one of the upper floors of Stark’s tower – puny, non-flying mortals such as Douche Two took the elevator – and somehow the whole crew made their way over to Loki. The poor fellow appeared to be recovering from quite the beating. Bruce, still in his monster form, looked quite smug, so Lucifer assumed it was his doing. Even though he was invulnerable, Lucifer didn’t want to risk being under those fists.

Those beautiful, powerful fists…

Lucifer was distracted by his dirty thoughts when he spotted Stark’s bar. Alcohol! Finally! He hadn’t encountered any since he came to this Earth, and his suit flask had run out ages ago.

He needed a nap.

The rest of the Avengers were gathered around the-Loki sized imprint on the floor as Lucifer fiddled around the bar. He pulled a bottle of Macallan from Stark’s shelf and poured some into a glass as he watched the rest of the team – because that’s what they were now, a team – as they focused their attention on Loki.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’ll have that drink now,” Loki suggested, having evidently seen Lucifer out of the corner of his eye. Lucifer snorted when he saw the team just glare at Loki more intently.

“I’m guessing that’s a no,” Lucifer said, grinning as he settled on a barstool, crossed his leg, and tried a sip. This whisky was good. “Personally, I’d let you, but I’d probably get skinned alive if I tried to do so.”

“Yeah, no such luck, Severus Snape,” Stark said to Loki. Lucifer grinned even wider.

Lucifer watched happily from the sidelines as Thor held a restrained Loki by the arm and some S.H.I.E.L.D. agents gradually took over the place. They were mostly concerned with taking Loki’s scepter, and they had even acquired a fancy case to put it in. Nice.

“You coming, Luce?” Stark asked as the rest of them began to clamor in the elevator.

“Let me finish my drink first,” Lucifer said, gesturing to the bottle of whiskey. “After that, I need to go rescue a fine Italian gentleman from the beach. I promised his co-worker that I’d retrieve him after the alien invasion. I’ll meet you later at the shawarma joint?”

“Right…” Stark said, looking bewildered for a second before shaking his head with bemusement.

In reality, Lucifer just wanted to escape all the bureaucratic nonsense that was due to begin now that S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were taking over the place. There was a reason he never stuck around the precinct when the paperwork started.

Still, completing a favor was an excellent excuse to get away.

Lucifer sat in silence around Stark’s bar, looking at the destroyed floor and shattered window. Barring the damage wrought by the battle, however. It was a nice place. It reminded him of his penthouse at Lux.

Lucifer swirled the remaining whiskey in his drink and swallowed the rest of it in one go. He got up and patted down his suit. It had looked so pristine only hours ago, and now it was messy with dirt, grime, and torn from shards of broken glass. He was going to need a new suit again.

To Italy it was.


End file.
